


how long, how long, how long?

by brandflakeeee



Series: a night like this [3]
Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: 1920s part three, Alternate Universe - 1920s, F/M, Gen, Typical Era Violence, bet you thought you'd seen the last of me, this is the final installment for sure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28799325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandflakeeee/pseuds/brandflakeeee
Summary: Hades and Persephone try to navigate an emerging new world that makes them both question their work, themselves, and each other.
Relationships: Eurydice/Orpheus (Hadestown), Hades/Persephone (Hadestown)
Series: a night like this [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609309
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	1. one

Hades could watch his wife forever and never be tired of the sight. 

She’d fallen asleep somewhere close to late evening the night before, about what was the midway point in their journey. Sun was beginning to peek through the cracks in the blinds, shedding soft morning light into the private train compartment. The steady thrum of the steam engine had been a constant since they boarded and it just now began to seep back into his conscious thought. Persephone didn’t seem bothered, face half buried in pillows with the sunlight streaming across her exposed flesh. A goddess wrapped in those sheets, he thought briefly. Far too good for him - and she’d nearly been lost to him. The idea still kept him awake at night, hence why he’d been up half the night watching her sleep, the steady rise and fall with each breath to remind him she was very much alive and warm and in his bed - even if it wasn’t  _ their _ bed back home. 

Rubbing a hand across his eyes, Hades checked his watch on the bedside table.  _ Early _ morning. Too early. Another few hours before they’d be close to New Oreleans - enough to let Persephone sleep in, the both of them to grab breakfast. After they reached the platform no doubt it would be noise and music and whatever Hermes had planned so Hades intended to enjoy the peace of the morning while he still could. 

Warm fingers reached across his chest, splaying across his skin before the fingers continued until a soft arm was wrapped around his middle. His wife nuzzled her face into his shoulder and he tilted his head to press a kiss to her unruly curls, pulling her closer into his embrace (but mindful of her shoulder, which he knew still caused her fits at times). She gave a soft hum of contentment though she seemed to be floating in the realm between sleep and awake. Who was he to mind? Mornings had gotten significantly better since he’d been married and that one was no exception. For most of his adult life, Hades had assumed he’d be spending it alone. Especially once he’d gotten in with the underground sort and worked his way up. What woman would be mad enough to marry him? An occasional girl in his bed suited him just fine, nothing lasting - far too dangerous to get attached. 

And for as long as he’d lived his life in darkness, Persephone had come blazing in like a bright and beautiful sun, reaching even the darkest corners of his mind. He’d fallen  _ hard _ . Somehow she found a liking to him, too. He’d been expecting her to run off the second things got a bit edgy, but she’d stayed. Not only that, but had thrown herself straight into the fray. Saved his life. Agreed to marry him. Spending the rest of his life with her at his side, waking up like this every morning? That was something he could get used to. That he  _ had _ gotten used to. 

“You’re thinkin’ too loud.” Persephone murmured, pulling him from his thoughts suddenly. He glanced down: her eyes were still closed, but her thumb was rubbing soft circles on his chest. 

“Sorry.” He remarked lowly, voice only the scraps of a rumble that early in the morning. “Go back to sleep. Got a while to go yet.”    
  
He heard her make a noise somewhere in the back of her throat as she shifted, face nuzzling further into his neck and her leg winding itself between his own. Laying her claim, clearly. Often they fell asleep in a similar fashion and it never bothered him; having Persephone close gave him more peace of mind. Obliging in her silent demand, Hades wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her closer. Much as he wanted to let the ambience of the train lull him back to sleep, his mind was already on the run with his thoughts and refused to be stopped. Pity.

He felt Persephone’s breath fall back into a steady rhythm of sleep, and Hades watched the soft rise and fall of her chest for several long minutes. This bit of a getaway would be good for both of them, a chance to recoup before trying to sort out the logistics of their continued work. Clubs would pop up in the city again of course, but there was a lot of rumbling in the ranks. Worry. Discouragement. He understood them, and shared them. Even before Ares’ attempts at . . . well, everything - Hades had heard the whispers of prohibition potentially being ended. Under discussion, at least. If it came true, most of his work would be a moot point. Granted he could provide alcohol to licensed establishments, but often the cargo that came in wasn’t perfectly refined. What was to stop other companies from starting their own productions and distributions with finer filtered spirits and better aged liquors? 

It would provide a less dangerous choice of profession, were it to come to fruition. And it wasn’t as if he and Persephone were hurt for money - he had funds to last them well enough into the grave and any heirs thereafter. Still, that wasn’t to say his business wouldn’t be undermined by better, proper companies . . . maybe he’d retire after all. But he also felt a sense of duty to the veritable underworld of citizens in the black markets and other related businesses that relied on his influence and command of the parts of the city that the fancy politicians didn’t want anything to do with. 

Hades wasn’t sure what he wanted more - a normal life, or business as usual. 

At least prohibition wouldn’t be overturned immediately; it would take time. They had time to figure out things, to find work arounds. If it even passed - the government liked to take their damn time in doing anything, he knew. This little detour of a vacation wouldn’t hurt their timeline. In fact, it would probably help them both think a little clearer. His mind still felt clouded by Ares and Athena, the near loss of Persephone - all of it crowding in and refusing to leave. A cacophony of memories. In truth, they’d never had a decent break from the shit hitting the fan so constantly. 

Hades didn’t fall back to sleep, but lingered in a space in between awake and asleep with no real concept of time. Content with mulling over his thoughts and memories and sorting them into their usual boxes, his mind neat and tidy. When he looked back to his watch again, it was nearly an hour later and the sun had shifted slightly so the rays peeking around the drawn together curtains were bigger and somewhat brighter. It took some convincing for him to gently try and remove himself from Persephone’s embrace; he’d let her sleep while he dressed and tried to do something about the five o’clock shadow at his jawline. Not that the compartment offered a plethora of amenities, but he’d make do. 

Voices in the hall alerted him that other passengers were up and about, passing by to the dining car to grab breakfast. He glanced back at Persephone, who had curled around his pillow in his absence. The sheets had fallen down to bunch at her waist, exposing the vast expanse of her beautiful, freckled skin. And the nasty looking injury on her shoulder that was close to being a permanent scar, it’s edges still a bit of an angry red. He winced at the sight of it, heart aching that she had come to harm. As he’d promised her before, he’d be willing to step back whole-heartedly in order to keep her safe, to lessen the risk. If he’d lost her - he couldn’t fathom it. Persephone had easily become his entire  _ world _ . 

By the time he’d popped into the small, adjoining compartment that served as a bathroom to quickly shave, Persephone had risen and looked every part of a freshly born goddess, wrapped in sheets and peering through the curtains to try and figure out where they were. 

“You’ve got time. Schedule says another two hours. If you want to get dressed, I’ll grab us breakfast?” He offered quietly, and she smiles hazily. 

“Breakfast in bed?” She asked, voice thick with her sleep. “What’d I do to deserve such a treatment?” Even still, he could hear the amusement in her tone. Hades dropped a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Reckon whatever I did to deserve you as my wife.” He murmured, and slipped out of the compartment. The blinds were open to reveal the passing landscape, full of the type of greenery they didn’t often get in the city. Passing by a few other passengers in the narrow hall, he made his way toward the dining car he and Persephone had just eaten at last evening. It would be nice to enjoy breakfast alone before they were accosted on all sides by the roar of another city. A welcome one, but he couldn’t deny enjoying the peace the train journey had afforded the both of them. 

By the time the train began to roll up to the station, they’d demolished breakfast and Persephone had donned a silvery-blue dress for their first day in a new city. After the train, the sheer madness of the platform was almost shocking - families greeting one another, people hurrying to make it to their own platforms, the usual business that came with train stations. Hermes hadn’t mentioned in his letter if he intended to meet them at the station and idly, Hades stretched his neck to look around to try and spot the man, to no avail. Not that he was confident in being able to find him in such a chaotic scene, but it was Persephone who spotted Hermes first, grinning like a madman.

“Sister!” He cried, moving forward to sweep her into a hug. She laughed, hugging him fiercely in return.    
  
“Look at you, livin’ it up!” Persephone grinned, pressing a half hearted kiss to his cheek. “Surprised you ain’t got this whole town in your pocket.”

“Who says I don’t?” He winked, extending a hand to Hades next. “Good to see you too, boss. Surprised you found the time to get away.”

“Didn’t have the choice once my very convincing wife had her say.” He remarked dryly, casting Persephone a look - she only smiled innocently, looking very much as if she didn’t regret it one bit. As if she would. 

“Course not. You need a break anyway. What I hear, it’s been a hell of a past few months for you two.” Hermes arched a brow, glancing between the pair of them. 

“Could say that.” Persephone replied. “Now you gonna show us this town or let us stand here all damn day?”

“Oh, I’ve missed you, girl.”

A man standing just behind Hermes that Hades hadn’t noticed stepped forward to collect their luggage, while Hermes tucked his arm in Persephone’s and began to lead them out of the station. The peace that had been on the train was shattered, and Hades felt himself be wrapped back up in the fast pace, blaring noise of the city. New Orleans had a different feel to it, though - one he took in as the man loaded their luggage into a waiting car. It wasn’t as bland and grey as the city he called home; bright colors in every direction, with music drifting in from one of the nearby buildings. It was sunny and warm and he squinted against it until Persephone handed him sunglasses from her purse - his, that he must have forgotten. She pulled her own from her bag and donned them as Hermes opened the car door for them. 

“I already got the day planned out. You two can rest up from the travel, I got you set up in a nice room that overlooks a courtyard. Dinner tonight, and a show. There’s a friend of mine I’d like to introduce you to that’ll be meetin’ us.” Hermes explained.

“You got yourself set up real nice down here.” Persephone mused, leaning forward in her seat to better reach Hermes, who sat in the front with his companion driving. 

“You know me, can’t stay bored. Got a good little club goin’ - room on my stage if you get inspired, sister.”

“You want me to work on my vacation? You got nerve.” But Persephone was grinning, and Hades knew without a doubt she’d sing a song or two. Not that he’d mind, either - watching his wife perform was always a treasure. It’s how they’d met, after all. Not to mention she was talented as all get out in general. Maybe if he retired, Persephone could return to performing full time. She loved it enough, and neither of them had any other obligations to tie them down - that was a conversation for later, perhaps. After vacation. She’d been determined to beat work out of his head while they were in New Orleans and while Hades felt it was impossible to ever  _ stop _ thinking of business, he’d try. For her. 

Hades was quiet as the pair chatted, catching up, Persephone filling him in on her brush with death. He could see the concern in Hermes’ eyes, the relief a second later. His gaze strayed to the landscape of the city as it passed by the car windows, perfectly bright and warm. Everything their city was not. Maybe Persephone would like to live in a place like New Orleans - another conversation for another time. After everything, Hades would happily give his work up if it meant her happiness and safety. 

Hermes lived in what seemed like a popular part of town, rows of other homes neatly lined but somehow each with their own character. Long and narrow townhouses, neatly kept and with what seemed like no yard at all. Persephone slipped her hand into his once they were out of the car, her expression one of absolute contentment. The vacation would  _ definitely _ do them both some good. 

“Get in here, then! Make moon eyes at each other later.”

Even after the train journey, both he and Persephone had lingering tiredness and neither were ashamed to sleep off some of the exhaustion with the knowledge it would be a late night if Hermes had anything to say of it. Their room was large and spacious and as promised, there was a tiny balcony that faced a private courtyard that had been hidden from the street. Persephone had thrown open the balcony doors to let the air in, reveling in the breeze that made the curtains dance. 

“Who d’you think this friend of his is?” Hades asked as he rummages in a half unpacked suitcase for something to wear for dinner. 

“Knowin’ Hermes? Could be anyone. Reckon he knows everyone in town already.”

“Girlfriend?” Hades offered. “Boyfriend?”

“Mhm - no doubt. Which means you’d better behave.”

Hades arched a brow at his wife, who mirrored the expression right back. 

“Me? Behave? Considerin’ the last time we went out to dinner with someone else we were shot at and you ran headfirst into it --”

“I was helpin’!” Persephone protested. “Besides, what’s the chance of that happenin’ again?”

“Depends on how much you believe in coincidence.”

She swatted him in the chest as she passed to search through her own suitcase for a pair of shoes. Hades chuckled; granted, he hoped never to have such an evening again. Not worth it. 

Dinner was at a rather ritzy joint, an elegant place with an air of wealth about it that Hades knew well. Even so, there was lively music and some were dancing together on an open part of the floor near a small stage where a jazz trio were playing. Despite appearances, things weren’t entirely insufferable in the place. Clearly New Orleans wasn’t as filled with snob-nosed high brows as home was. Hermes checked his pocketwatch as they were led to a table near the stage, which was empty - which would not have been strange, but Hermes had said his mysterious friend would be meeting them at the restaurant. 

“Surprised this ain’t your place, given your tastes.” Persephone mused to Hermes as they sat. Hades watched as Hermes didn’t immediately reply - it was just a split second of hesitation, a flash of concern in Hermes’ gaze that Hades had never seen before. It was gone in an instant, replaced by a flashy smile and a laugh at Persephone’s comment. If she had seen the hesitation, she didn’t say anything, and Hades decided perhaps it would do well to keep an eye on Hermes the rest of the evening. 

He checked his watch twice more as they waited for Hermes’ friend to join them, but it became clear they were not going to show for dinner. 

“She’s just runnin’ late, I’m sure. Girl would be late to her own funeral.” Hermes muttered, frowning at his watch for the third time. “We’d best eat. She’ll meet us at the theater, I reckon.”

Hades didn’t think Hermes’ voice sounded so convinced. Persephone seemed to pick up on it this time as well, taking her husband’s hand beneath the table with a sideways glance. Neither of them dared ask, only smiled and agreed. Even if Hades had a rather queer feeling buried in his gut. Something was off. It wasn’t like Hermes to be so concerned, either. Especially when he was attempting to  _ hide _ that concern. Perhaps it was nothing, but the feeling in his gut told him otherwise. And Hades had learned to trust his gut in his many,  _ many _ years. Even Persephone - who arguably knew Hermes better than Hades did - seemed slightly cautious of the tone that Hermes had adopted. 

Dinner was quiet after that. Little conversation. Which was strange - as close as Persephone and Hermes were to each other, Hermes seemed uneager to engage in any talking, alternating between glancing toward the door and his pocketwatch. Persephone kept hold of Hades’ hand beneath the table, squeezing his every once in a while as they both tried to decipher what had Hermes so vexed besides the absence of his lady friend. 

The theatre was not far from the restaurant, so they could walk together along the sidewalk. Others were out and about, enjoying the evening. The sun was just starting to set, beautiful colors bleeding across the skyline to make the buildings appear as if they were on fire. The air was starting to cool off from the humid heat of the day - it would be a lovely night after they exited the theatre. 

Hermes’ friend was not there, either. 

The concern was definitely clear on his face this time, Hades noted. While getting their tickets from the box office, he asked if any messages had been left for him - and no, nothing. 

“If you’re that worried, why don’t we skip the show and check on her?” Persephone offered as Hermes crossed the lobby back to them. “Clearly she means somethin’ to you.”

“She’s . . . a friend of mine. Close. We’re close. And she ain’t usually this late without lettin’ me know.” Hermes sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s - she’s been in with the wrong sort of crowd before and I worry.” 

“Then we’ll go.” Hades rumbled. “Make sure she’s alright. You ain’t gonna be able to focus on a show if you’re worried about her anyway.”

Persephone shot him a look. Hades frowned.

“Hades is right. You know where she lives?” Persephone asked.

Hermes nodded slowly. It was settled, then. Clearly Hermes was concerned and while Hades was sure his friend was alright, that funny feeling had returned to his stomach again. Uncertainty. Worry. An overall bad feeling.

“I ain’t ever seen him so torn up.” Persephone remarked quietly as they walked. Hermes seemed to not want to wait for the car, instead preferring to walk to wherever it was his friend lived. Hades hummed a quiet agreement.

“You think it’s more than just this girl?” Hades asked her, his fingers tightening in hers briefly. 

“I don’t know. But it worries me. He doesn’t - he doesn’t seem like himself. I noticed it when we got here.” Persephone continued, and Hades felt that gut feeling of his twist it’s way more firmly into his belly. He hadn’t wanted to say it, but Hermes had been  _ overly _ charismatic - Hades had put it off to him not seeing Persephone in a while, but now he wondered if perhaps Hermes was hiding something. Or trying to ignore something while they were in town. 

The sun had set, and the streetlamps had come on. They were fewer and fewer as they walked away from the center of activity in town. There were still people, but the buildings were less fancy. Less life radiating from them. More residential. Still charming, but not quite n the way that the area Hermes lived in. Hades kept one eye over his shoulder, always on edge. Not quite trusting. It wasn’t a terrible neighbor or anything to force him on edge, that was Hades own instinct. His arm slipped around Persephone’s waist protectively and while she glanced up at him, didn’t pull away. As if she could sense whatever bad feeling lingering as well. 

Hermes stopped at an apartment building that had a breezeway as an entrance rather than a door. It led to a communal courtyard where the front doors all faced inward, numbered in fading, peeling paint. The courtyard looked well-kept at least. A few children’s toys gave away the notion that there were families that lived in some of the apartments as well. Hades’s gaze swept the entire area while Hermes went to a door numbered as apartment 3, and knocked lightly. 

It swung open the second Hermes touched it, revealing it had not been locked. Or entirely shut. 

Clearly Hades’ bad feeling had been warranted.

“Chione?” Hermes called into the open entryway. “Everythin’ alright?”

“Stop.” Hades said the second Hermes tried to enter first. Persephone grabbed Hermes’ sleeve to prevent him from entering. “Let me go first.”

“You’re not armed.” Persephone remarked dryly, using her other hand to hitch the skirt of her dress up to reveal the small, pearl handled revolver tucked neatly into her garter. Hades opened his mouth, thought better of it, and snapped it shut again. Probably better for him to ask questions later - namely why the hell she was carrying around a weapon when he hadn’t thought to bring one himself, save for the small knife always tucked into his waistband. If Hermes was surprised at all, he didn’t say a word.

Hades relented in letting Persephone go first into the apartment, but was half a step behind her - ready to jerk her out of the way of danger if he had to. It was a narrow entryway that opened into a larger, beautiful living area that was well decorated with average tastes - or had been. Everything had been turned over, rummaged through, or ripped apart in some fashion or the other. Every drawer opened, papers thrown about, everything in a worrying state of disarray.

“Chione?” Hermes called again - nothing but silence. Persephone peered into an adjoining room, but it was simply a narrow storage closet that looked as if it had been torn into as well. 

“Upstairs?” Hades murmured, and Persephone nodded before she led the way up a small set of steps that curved into the floor above. Another narrow hall with doors opened to various rooms two bedrooms and another bathroom that had been equally destroyed and gone through. Whoever had done it had been in a hurry, looking for something in particular. 

He had assumed the closed door at the end of the hall to be another closet - but no, another set of almost too-tiny steps. An attic, then. On a whim as Persephone and Hermes cleared the rest of the second floor, Hades flicked the light and climbed the steps slowly - it was difficult, given the space, and the air was still. Almost thick. And it reeked of something he couldn’t quite place. 

As he emerged into the attic, he understood the smell. Lacquer. Paints. Turpentine. The entire space was filled with art supplies of varying mediums and canvases filled with paintings. Some looked half done. His brow furrowed - the paintings looked familiar. Uncomfortably so. He couldn’t put his finger on why just yet. He rounded a large stack of empty canvases and stopped, wincing with the discovery on the other side. 

A man’s body, covered in paint and blood. A gunshot wound to his head, by the looks of it. Clearly dead.

“Up here!” He called, and there was a flurry of footsteps on the steps into the attic. Hermes appeared before Persephone, and immediately Hermes swore. Persephone lowered her gun, but not entirely. Still on edge, just like Hades. Perhaps some of his behaviors had begun to rub off on her for the better or worse.

“Is this someone you know?” Hades murmured, brows furrowed. Hermes swallowed thickly, but said nothing - in fact, it was Persephone who spoke.

“---the look of things, she might have had a few enemies. He might have been one.” Persephone was looking at one of the half finished paintings. “These are forgeries. Good ones, too.”

Hades understood why they’d looked familiar. 

“Hermes, did you know she was doin’ this?” Persephone asked, frowning. 

“----I told you she was in with the wrong crowd.”

“You didn’t say she was a damned forgery artist! Tell me you ain’t been involved in this too.”

Again, Hermes did not reply.

“Either way, she isn’t here. But I reckon she’s the one who shot him.” Hades muttered, running a hand across his face. 

“No. She wouldn’t have.” Hermes spoke quickly. Defensively. “Whatever happened to him wasn’t her. He - I don’t recognize him.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that he’s murdered in the attic of a woman who was doing art forgeries. Ain’t as if we can call the police, is it?” Persephone said quickly. “Hermes, what have you gotten into? This ain’t like you.”

“Maybe you should just go back home. I’ll - I’ll clean this up and be right behind you. This is my mess to deal with.”

“You’re an idiot if you think we’re lettin’ you do that. Or on your own.” Hades replied sharply. “But you gotta start talkin’.”

“Tell us what you’ve gotten us into, Hermes.” 

“Could take a while.”

“Good thing we got all night.”


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HUGE shout out to my beautiful beta reader, thelazytealover. ❤

Persephone was glad to find the nice vintage bottle of wine already opened, happily pouring herself half a glass - before deciding to go ahead and fill it near to the brim. She filled another for her husband and a third for Hermes, slightly less full than her own. Carrying theirs over to each of their chosen places around the dimly lit parlor, Persephone retrieved her own and sank into the chaise lounge near the window. 

They’d been forced to leave the man in the attic but had staged things a bit more obviously to make it appear as if it had been a random robbery. Not what was likely a targeted attack. There was no sign of Chione and she knew the police would likely be on the lookout for her now too, considering the circumstances. Even if they’d managed to make it look like Chione had likely shot the man in self defense, she still needed to be found. What had been promised as a night of dinner, drinks, and theatre had turned into her, Hades, and Hermes sitting in Hermes’ parlor nursing glasses of wine while her brother attempted to pull together a story in his head. He’d been soberingly quiet as they’d returned. 

“Brother, we can’t help unless you give us the story.” Persephone prompted him gently.  _ “All _ of the story. No leavin’ out parts.”

Hermes stared into his drink with an air of which Persephone had never seen on him. Or at least it had been quite the while since. It worried her. Worried her that he seemed tied up in something not so safe. At least working at the club hadn’t been a direct line of danger back home. Here though . . . it didn’t sit right with her. No part of the situation did. If it were anyone but Hermes, she’d have put herself and Hades back onto the train without a second thought. She glanced over at her husband, could see the gears turning in that head of his as he studied Hermes like he might study a work problem. She’d promised him rest and relaxation - clearly that was shot to hell now, too. 

“I was tryin’ to help her get outta the business. She’s a good girl, Chione. Got dragged into the underbelly side of things when she was younger - wasn’t fair.” Hermes said slowly, clearly picking his words with caution. “Met her not long after I got here. We spent time together. I found out what she did on the side - she’s talented, a photographic memory. Can replicate anything you give her onto a canvas. But that crowd got to her, used her for money. Black market things. That usual bull. She made good money at it, but - well, she didn’t want to keep going. Wanted to be free. Fly the nest. I promised I’d help her. Get her set up in a place that wasn’t some damned den of iniquity.”

“You care for her.” Hades rumbled in the pause of Hermes speaking. 

“She’s a friend of mine, is all.” Hermes repeated, though Persephone could see in his gaze that it  _ was _ more than that. Or had been at one point. Hermes looked wounded, almost.

“Was there anyone who’d want to hurt her enough to attack her in broad daylight?” Persephone asked gently, and Hermes made a soft noise in the back of his throat. 

“Plenty.” A pause. “She was in those groups in the underbelly for a while.”

“And I assume they’re a lot more . . .  _ angry _ than the ones back home?” 

Hermes nodded. 

“Ain’t the best bunch to be meddlin’ with. Big families mostly, ones that have been here a long time. Control everything and everyone in this city. Least they think they do. Chione was included.”

“So is the man in her attic one of those? Or someone else?” Hades prompted.

“Don’t know. Could be anyone. But I guarantee she’s in trouble wherever she is.”

“Then we go to one of these ‘families’. The one she was involved in. And we ask.” Persephone drawled. Hermes looked at her sharply and Persephone arched a brow. “What?”

“You don’t go to them. They come to you. And when that happens, you don’t want it, sister.”

“Sounds like you’ve dealt with ‘em before.”

“I have.” Hermes huffed. “The club I run wasn’t exactly a money-maker at the start ---”

“Oh, Hermes - no.” Persephone groaned. “Don’t tell me you owe these people money.”

Hermes winced. 

“May owe them a bit. Hence why I ain’t fond of going to find ‘em.” He took a long drink of wine, staring at the liquid as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Persephone swore quietly under her breath. For as much trouble as the underworld back home could be, New Orleans had many years head start as an established city filled with families and groups with roots deeper than any trees ever thought of being. She’d only heard things through the grapevine of course, but Hermes talking about them seemed to only confirm they were bad news. All of them. And if Chione had been wrapped up in them - and now Hermes - well, it didn’t sit well in her belly at all. Whether the man in the attic had been one of the underground’s or someone else still remained to be seen. There were more questions than answers, and Persephone had the sinking feeling Hermes wouldn’t let it go. Not that she could blame him. 

Which meant she and Hades were involved now, too. She wouldn’t let Hermes risk his neck without backup. Even if she could beat the shit out of him for daring to get involved at all. Her soft hearted brother.

She opened her mouth to offer to do a bit of digging herself, but Hades seemed to have already read her mind and shot her a sharp look.

“Not a chance in hell.” He murmured, looking like she was insane for even the shred of the idea. “Ain’t no use of havin’ a reputation if you can’t use it. Surely my name’s been mentioned in some of these places - we get a lot of things that come in from these parts. Reckon I can do discrete diggin’ of my own. See if your girl’s been seen lately. Or why someone might be after her suddenly.”

“There’s something else.” Hermes interrupted. “The ah - the forgeries. She was . . . she was doin’ one for me. It was the last one, and she wanted to use the money to buy off my debts. She was working on it, had already planned most of how she planned to switch it out . . . I didn’t see the one she was paintin’ in the attic. It was missin’ - last I saw, it was halfway done.”

Persephone refused the urge to throw her glass at him.

“Hermes - when did you get so damned foolish?”

“Day I was born.” He fires back, frowning. “You don’t wanna owe these people money and I wanted out of debt. Chione agreed. I wanted her out but she wanted to help the only way she knew how.”

Persephone grit her teeth for a moment, feeling the muscles jumping in her jaw. Frustration settled in her gut - Hermes was better than this. So she thought. She knew so little about him in New Orleans, it seemed. Things had been easier when they’d been together in their home city. When it had just been one club, her performing and him being emcee. Simpler times. 

Then Hades had walked in and the world had started changing. 

Granted Hades had nothing to do with Hermes’ move to New Orleans, his recent decisions. But had she been so involved with Hades that she hadn’t noticed Hermes getting involved with such things? His letters hadn’t given him away as anything but normal, with no trouble to be found. He’d always had a gift of words though, she wouldn’t put it past him to lie through his teeth (or letters, if she were specific). She sighed, rubbing a hand across her face in her vague frustration; she couldn’t pinpoint what she was more put off about: the situation as a whole or Hermes. There was a large part of her still almost bitter; this wouldn’t be the break away from work she had promised Hades. She looked over at her husband, whose face didn’t betray anything but his standard brooding. 

She’d owe him after this. A proper vacation - one without work, death threats, art forgery, or anything remotely close to it. Just relaxation. Part of her does wonder if she or Hades are capable of pure relaxation though. Which brought about the question on cutting back on work when they returned, too - between the current situation and the one facing them back home, briefly Perspehone considered the chances of slipping off into the bayou and becoming a cryptid in the woods instead. 

“I need a dress.” She muttered, leaning back in her chair with her wine glass balanced on the arm. Hermes and Hades both looked at her. She tried not to roll her eyes. 

“Your club’s in debt - that means there’s gonna be someone checkin’ in to see how you’re doin’, see if you’re able to pay the money you owe.” Persephone sipped her wine. “That means I go sing and dance at your club like you suggested, they might  _ notice _ . And if I can get an in, it’ll be easier to ask questions. I didn’t bring any performin’ dresses. Think you can handle that without trouble, brother?”

Hermes frowned, but nodded. Hades looked as if he might break a tooth with the force of the grit of his jaw. 

“You intend to just worm your way in on sex appeal?” Her husband drawled, and Persephone refused the urge to roll her eyes.

“Hades, I know where you sleep.”

Conversation derailed after that, into mostly silence. A casual comment here or there but she could tell all three of them were laced with anxiety and tension. Hades clearly wasn’t going to have it out with her in front of Hermes; Persephone assumed she’d be in for it once Hermes was out of earshot. Which wouldn’t be long, considering the lack of conversation and how quickly the wine bottle would be empty between them.    
  
Hades waited a grand total of forty five seconds after the door to their guest bedroom closed before he spoke. 

“I didn’t come here to put you at risk.”

Persephone sighed, leaning against the wardrobe as she reached down to remove her shoes and tossed them aside. 

“I didn’t come here to bail my brother out of owing a mob either, but here we are.” She remarked dryly. “I’m not riskin’ myself anymore than I would at home. But this matters to Hermes. So it matters to me.”

She glanced over to her husband, who was in the midst of peeling his jacket off and the suspenders beneath. Hades frowned at her in response but said nothing else while they both disrobed for the evening. Unpinning her hair and peeling off her stockings, her fingers fumbled briefly at the zipper in the back of her dress before she felt his hands take over, gently tugging it loose from whatever it had snagged on. The silence between them felt strange and she could practically hear the gears in her husband’s head turning.  _ Brooding _ . 

“What happened to being safer?” Hades finally spoke again as she resumed changing, rifling through luggage to find something to wear for the night.  _ Safer, right _ . Since when had anything been safe with them? With nearly matching shoulder scars and both of them facing down death despite every precaution otherwise,  _ safe _ seemed unobtainable. 

“I’m not helpless, Hades. Ain’t much they’re gonna do in a room full of people, either.” She pointed out. “I’m not throwing myself in the line of fire - no more than you would be if you waltzed right into one of their haunts and threw your weight around. It makes sense to do it delicately and you  _ know _ it.”

Hades made a noise that was almost a defeated huff, and Persephone knew he couldn’t exactly deny it. Going in guns blazing had never been a foolproof method in doing things. Sliding a silk nightgown on, she sank onto the edge of the bed beside him.    
  
“I expect you to be there too.” Persephone said, gentler. He stood just as she reached for his arm, changing into a softer pair of pants. 

“You  _ know _ I’ll be there.” He rumbled, folding his shirt neatly and setting it atop the trousers he’d discarded before he finally turned again to look at her. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“That seems excessive, lover.”

“Are you sayin’ you wouldn’t do the same?”

Persephone bit the inside of her cheek, annoyed but having no direct argument back because of the truth of it. She would do the same. She and Hades had long since made that abundantly clear to each other. Sometimes it was hard to remember they’d only been married a short while when it felt so much longer. Decades, even. Fortunate, compared to some couples she’d known. Even after their nasty little fight over his doubts and assumptions of her sleeping with Ares, they’d recovered. Persephone wasn’t so easily willing to give up on him for one fault. He wasn’t perfect - hell, neither was she. Life would be boring otherwise. 

Still, she had hoped for a  _ fraction _ of time in which they didn’t have to deal with underground markets, bootlegging, forgery, and whatever other illegal activities happened to crop up. Silly Persephone, who had assumed bootlegging would be the worst of her problems when she’d gotten involved with Hades. Her life had become so much more than that - even still, she didn’t regret it. She felt assured in that, despite her need to remind herself of it when Hades was being fussy or overwhelming.

Hades finally got into bed, and Persephone was pulled from her thoughts when one of his arms wrapped around her and dragged her to him. She straddled his waist, nightgown riding up to bunch at her thighs. Her hands found purchase on either side of his head as she bent over him, arching a brow at this sudden shift. 

“Is this meant to distract me?” She asked lowly, and Hades gave a noise that might as well have been unearthly in nature. “And you’re  _ cheatin’  _ now, too.”

“Is it working?”

“This discussion ain’t finished.” A pause. “But I’ll allow a brief recess.”

Their conversation was rehashed several times over the following day, Hermes offering no support to either side. Wasn’t quite an argument, but the arrangements were still unsettling to Hades, and Persephone was far too stubborn to back down from the idea she knew would suit both of them in the end. It  _ would _ work. Had to. She’d bridge a gap and they’d use that bridge to find details on Chione - hopefully. Ideally. Not like she planned on  _ sleeping _ with any of them, which she had assured Hades outright too - as if it would offer any solace to her fussing husband. For someone used to dealing with dangerous situations and a better background in it than her, he seemed determined to keep her from it more than ever. 

But Hermes was close to family. She’d do whatever it took to help him.

At least he’d picked out a gorgeous dress, a long evening gown in silver and white. 

Hermes’ club was beautiful, not unlike  _ Olympus _ back home. Dimly lit, it offered a cozy interior in what was once a basement, he’d explained. A bar, a dance floor and stage, plenty of tables - and guests of all sorts among them. A few private rooms offered quieter drinking options compared to the din of the main room and the band that played every night. Despite it’s financial issues it seemed relatively successful, packed full. Hermes owed the money he’d used to start the place, but even this amount of business wouldn’t be enough to pay it back - hence his reliance on Chione’s attempts to help aid his debt. 

From the stage, Persephone could see the entire room - except past the curtains that sectioned off the private rooms. She was willing to bet the ones she was trying to impress and get in graces with were in one of them. Ensuring their investment would be returned from the money they’d provided for the start up. As a guest performer, Persephone had received hesitant looks from some of the audience members - but they were just as pliable and encouraged as her usual crowds back home. Easily swayed in song. She found herself falling into old habits as she moved across the stage, blowing a kiss to one particularly endearing gentleman near the front of the stage. He seemed delighted at the attention; his lady friend did not.

Persephone put everything she had into the music, the lyrics, the sultry and beautiful song.

“ _ Dans les oubliettes, de ma sombre pensée. Comme un antidote. Pour me protéger. Faut oublier _ . . . .”

It wasn’t the first time she’d used the stage as a platform, and while she  _ hoped _ it would be the last, something in her doubted it entirely. As such seemed to be their lives. At least she enjoyed it, performing; while she didn’t miss the exhaustion with performing every night, Persephone liked her voice. So did others, apparently. Singing had been her life for so long that it had been strange to give it up (or rather, be forced to when the club had burned). Adjustments had been made, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t miss it all the same. Despite her focus on the crowd, Persephone lost herself in the music, beautiful and low. She’d met Hades like this, her mind reminded and instinctively her gaze flickered to where he sat at the bar not unlike the very night they’d met. Hermes was somewhere too, but her gaze couldn’t quite find him in the shadowy, flickering light. Stage lights were blinding enough. 

“ _ J'oublie les mensonges. Et les actes manqués. Parfois certains songes. Trahissent mes pensées. Faut oublier  _ . . .”

Still, it felt strange not being home and performing. Being in a strange city had been exciting at first, but Persephone had realized not knowing  _ anyone _ or being in control of some aspect of said city made it uncomfortable. Worrying. Hades didn’t have a hand in New Orleans like he did at home and it put them at risk (more than usual). Left them vulnerable, which was not a feeling she liked and knew her husband didn’t, either. Perhaps it was why he’d been so worried and fussy about her putting herself in the spotlight - figuratively and literally. 

Hopefully it would pay off. 

Her song trailed off, the slow and languid notes fading into the instrumental music before a round of polite applause sprang up. She did a little bow and smiled warmly - genuinely. Despite it though, her gaze found Hades again - who was actually smiling as well and applauding with the rest. She gave a wink, plucking one of the flowers from her hair and tucking it into the lapel of one of the men closest to the stage: playing it off, of course. 

And now, to wait. 

With her set over, Persephone slipped backstage and was almost immediately intercepted by Hermes, who looked vaguely alarmed. She frowned. 

“What’s happened?”

“I got a request.” Hermes said quietly, almost hissing under his breath. “A  _ private _ request. For you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not like that, sister.” It was his turn to frown. “A private concert. One of my VIPs.”

Ice settled in her veins. 

“You recognize who it is?”

“Didn’t see the face. Can’t without bein’ suspicious. One of my waitresses passed the message to me and I said I’d see what I could do.” Hermes murmured. “Could be our in.”

Persephone felt her stomach do a bit of a flip. Not uncomfortable, merely anxious. Worried. She couldn’t afford to screw this up. Not that her neck was directly on the line but . . . well, it could be if she screwed it up bad enough. Still, she liked to think herself as better than a screw-up. Persephone had learned well enough at Hades’ side, and her experience before meeting him in dealing with Zeus was more than helpful. Hopefully. 

“Right. Yeah. I’ll do it. Just ain’t doin’ shady shit and he better keep his hands to himself.” Persephone replied after a moment, swallowing back her hesitation. “Tell Hades.”

“You need us, you holler. We’ll be right there in a heartbeat and you know it.”

She nodded, squeezing his arm as he offered it out to escort her to whatever little side-room the request had come from. This could be their chance, she reminded herself when her nerves flared. But what if it wasn’t? She was wasting time on someone who could be absolutely useless to their cause. Was it worth the risk? Persephone didn’t have time to reconsider as Hermes stopped outside one of the curtained off areas, and nodded toward the interior. 

“Knock ‘em dead.” Hermes muttered and her smile flashed quickly across her lips. She didn’t lift her head to look for Hades, afraid any expression her husband might give would immediately convince her out of a private performance. She ducked past the curtain before she lost her courage to do so.

The room was small, with one large table and a half circle sofa around it. To her surprise, there was only one person at the table, someone who’s face she couldn’t quite see. The lighting was incredibly dim, lit only by softly flickering candles that had half burned down. Cozy. Intimate. Beautiful, but unnerving. The person at the table - a man - was bent toward a waitress as she handed him another drink, and Persephone could hear her giggle faintly before she straightened. The man’s face was still shadowed even as the waitress pulled away and tucked something into her dress - a folded bit of paper from what Persephone could tell. 

“I was told you wanted a private song or two.” Persephone found her voice half a second after the waitress slipped out. She hoped her voice sounded steady enough. Sultry enough. The man didn’t speak, didn’t move, only seemed to stare. The longer the silence stretched on with the vague sound of the main room diffuse through the curtains, the more uncomfortable Persephone became. 

“Is there a song you’d like to request?” She offered in another attempt, taking a step forward with a swish of fabric and a delicate rustle of the beading. The man rested his forearms on the table, steepling his fingers for a long moment before he finally seemed to make a decision. 

“I’m sure whatever song you choose will be quite enjoyable.” He finally spoke, and Persephone frowned. The voice - she  _ knew _ that voice.

The man leaned forward enough so his face was halfway cast in the light of the candles, shadows flickering across several nasty looking scars that seemed to overwhelm a good half of his face. His skin was drawn tight, puckered in some places - almost hideously disfigured. Even still, she recognized the eyes - which had remained unchanged in the time since she’d last seen them. The ice in her veins returned almost painfully, the breath stolen from her lungs in one fell swoop. Her knees felt like they might buckle and she fought not only the urge to collapse, but the urge to grab the man by the hair and slam his face into the table until nothing but pulp was left.    
  
“Cat got your tongue, Persephone?” He drawled, half his face drawing into a tight, almost bitter smirk. 

“---you’re dead. I watched you die.”

“Did you?” He remarked, far too casually for her liking. “Are you certain of that?”

“ _ I killed you _ .”

Pluto chuckled lowly, and Persephone shivered, feeling the cold spread to her belly, her throat, killing her voice. He seemed all too pleased in the change in her, and took a long sip of his drink.

“Not quite, darling.”


End file.
